Rivendell Burning
by YunaDax
Summary: Murder and arson strike at the heart of Imladris. Main characters Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Aragorn, Glorfindel and Elrond.
1. Default Chapter

Title - Rivendell Burning

Author - Jules

Rating - PG13 

Disclaimer - they do, I don't.

Summery - Tragedy strikes as the Last Homely House falls victim to murder and arson.

Authors Notes - WARNING - angst alert! Gore, blood and angst abounds, you have been warned.

Dedication - To Minka, who kicked my bum hard enough to get me to write this.Also to Sonbon and the Pakettes.

Dark blood coated the darkened soil, making everything slippery with its presence. It slowly gelled and dried as its owner lay unmoving on his hasty deathbed. Nothing could be done for the elf-lord as he his lifeblood ran in seeming torrents from his battered body, the regal noble being one of hundreds of wounded, many critically so, and the urgently needed medical supplies smouldering in the partially collapsed ruins of the Last Homely House.

Two blonde elves moved upon the wounded, closing the eyes of the dead and wrapping the hideous burns of the living in dampened rags while searching for familiar faces. They had moved as many of the wounded down close to the river banks as soon as they were found or staggered out of their burning homes, the swiftly running waters providing the able-bodied with something cool to cleanse the burns with. It was all they could do, bind a wound, return a short time later, rinse the bloodied and sodden bandages in the clear water before reapplying them, steadfastly ignoring the cried of agony that ricocheted round the valley. The two elves moved to a prone figure along the further edge of the congregation, the tatters of his clothing identifying the wear as that of Elrond. Glorfindel touched the brow of his old friend, concern and fear lining his heart at the lack of heat he felt. The skin was cold, clammy to the touch and pale to the eye, little could be done for the lord of Imladris after he had been stabbed, and less still after he had been badly burnt whilst being dragged to safety from the burning house. 

" Is he?" Legolas asked softly, his voice hitching as he contemplated the death of one he held in such high regard. 

" Not yet, but I fear it will not be long" the despairing voice responded, the knowledge of what he knew would happen laddening his words with such a dread never heard by the Mirkwood elf before. Legolas took another look around the sea of agonised faces, his keen eyes searching for three that he had not yet sighted. Glorfindel sensed Legolas' distraction through his despair and with a great degree of effort looked up from the ashen face of Elrond.

" Who isn't with us? Who isn't here?" the broken voice sounded softly.

" Elladan and Elrohir" Legolas moved slightly to glance at another group just stumbling in, he paused a moment, not wanting to believe what he saw " and Estel." 

Glofindel's grief raised another notch as he realised his lapse of foresight. Had he been so blinded by his despair in Elrond that he had forgotten about the elf-lords' heirs? He once again looked up only to see the rapidly retreating figure of Legolas darting back towards the main house. He shouted a warning, the building was still burning intensely and was structurally unsound, great groans giving testament that it would collapse in on itself at any moment. 

Legolas stealed himself as he neared the blazing building, pulling his hood over his hair to stop if from catching alight, and tucking his face into the raised crook of his arm, using the fabric of his sleeve as a filter for the dense smoke. He raised his free hand to shield his eyes from the intense heat, only moving it to cast aside objects in his path. He gulped in one last lungful of good air and ran up the stairs, ducking under the fallen doorarches and plunging into the inferno beyond. Instantly his eyes began to tear, searing smoke robbing air away from his lung and robbing his mind of rationality. Desperately he called, his voice being swallowed by the flames mere moments after leaving his mouth. 

" ESTEL!" he screamed, only to choke on the acid air as he body forced him to inhale. " ELLADAN!" He frantically searched the rooms near the entrance of the house, only to find them burning and empty of occupants. 

He reached one of the dining rooms, only to find two corpses in his path, burnt beyond belief and only recognisable by the few odd scrap of clothing that identified them as serving staff. The heat was so intense he couldn't venture further inwards, instead moving towards the rear of the house and the private rooms. There he faced one of the worst decisions he would ever have to face. If he turned left, he would reach Estel's room, if he turned right, he would reach that of Elladan's & Elrohirs'. The building groaned and shifted beneath the elf's feet, causing him to stumble and his arm to move away from his face. 

Instantly he choked on the dense smoke, coughing and hacking as the dense particles reeked havoc on his lungs. He dropped to his knees in an attempt to clear his airways, his sleeve shoved hard against his gasping mouth.

The building shifted again, the floorboards pitching downwards as the building lost more support beams, but through the dense smoke came a sound not related to the building shifting. Instantly Legolas started towards the noise, his boots slipping on the uneven flooring as he scrambled in the direction of the scream. His mind refused to function as he found his way to the door, kicking it in and being forced back by the expulsion of heat. He staggered backwards, ignoring the sting and smell of his own burning flesh as the heat seared the skin on his hands and face. The fire in the doorway died down for an instant and Legolas stole his chance, plunging through the threshold and towards the rooms only occupant.

Dark hair spilled over a melting floormat, contrasting dramatically with the world of orange that surrounded it. Deep blisters and charred flesh marred what Legolas could see of the being's face and he hurried forward. Dropping to his knees he checked for a pulse and was relieved when he found one, the being's painfulled eyes opened at the touch; frantic grey searched soulful blue and took no comfort in what he saw. Legolas had not found Estel nor the other twin.

The blonde elf scooped the son of Elrond in his arms and gently lifted him, blocking the shriek of utter agony that Elladan screamed as his body protested against the movement. His grey eyes slid closed as his mind fled the confines of his protesting body, only finding relief in the blessed realm of unconsciousness. Legolas noted how the dark elf's body went completely limp as he staggered towards the door, flames licking his booted feet and sending shivers of heat through the soles and racing up his legs, he would have to get Elladan out, and soon. He had just reached the doorframe when the floorboards heaved and bucked beneath him, pitching him forward and causing Elladan to tumble out of his arms. His knees connected with the hardwood, grazing and tearing the soft flesh as the fire lipped at the tattered edges of his clothing. The blonde elf grimaced at the new wave of pain and pushed himself forwards, crawling towards the limp Elladan as the flames above sent splinters of burning ceiling raining down on him. A girder above him shrieked and shifted, resting a moment before plummeting downwards, fire greedily gnawing at the delicate wood. The dark elf made no noise as the heavy wood impacted his body, pinning him to the floor, but Legolas shrieked in agony. The weight of the wood alone would have easily crushed the strong bones in his body, but the heat and bite of the hungry flames sent immense waves of pain through his already battered body. He cried out for aid, screaming for anyone who could hear him, but the roar of the burning building swallowed his words and ignored his pleas for help. He squirmed against the dead weight that pinned his chest to the floor, trying desperately to free himself even as he felt his ribs cracking one by one under the pressure. What little air his lungs had in them was cruelly forced outward as the beam finally settled, causing dark spots to appear before his eyes as his mind reeled from the lack of oxygen. Sparks flew as the fire creeped from the wood to his fair hair and Legolas tried desperately to swat the flames out, succeeding only in burning his hands and sending his body even further into shock. Darkness started to invade his vision, sending the brilliant orange of the fire into a murky black as unconsciousness threatened to overcome him. He glanced up at a new sound, something again not related to the house groaning and secumbing to the onslaught, but darkness claimed him before his mind could register the owner of the voice. 

" LEGOLAS!" the voice cried, footsteps unsteady as the human tried frantically to answer the prince's anguished pleas for help. He had come to shortly after the house began moving, the floor he was pinned to pitching downwards and relieving the ranger of the heavy bookshelf that had rested on top of him. He scrambled towards his brother's door where Legolas' voice had emanated, the heat and intense smoke forcing him back a few paces and making the tears that ran from his eyes stream in earnest in an attempt to cleanse the smoke from them. He clamped his sleeve to his mouth, sucking in as much air as he could before plunging into the inferno.

Aragorn first saw Elladan pinned beneath the heavy girder, the closed eyes and charred skin frightening the ranger more than he wanted to admit. But it was not Elladan that had called to him. His eyes continued to search the burning room, until he located Legolas also trapped under the heavy wood, his bright blue eyes slipping closed even as Aragorn's glance was cast upon him. 

" Legolas!" The ranger started towards the prone prince, his heart skipping as he took in his friends' situation, there was no way he could free his friend without aid. He desperately searched the room for some kind of lever, and found one of his brother's hunting spears, as yet unburnt and resting near to his position. Aragorn grabbed the sturdy wood and wedged it under the girder midway between its captives. Grunting with effort he heaved against the solid wood, feeling the oak spear in his hands flex as the strain was added. Nothing happened. He heaved again, putting his entire weight under the spear, ignoring the bite of the flames now licking the bottom of his trousers. He cried out in anguish as the girder only shifted marginally, if he could only get Legolas to wiggle himself free as Aragorn took the brunt of the weight of the girder, then he could cast it aside, freeing Elladan as well. He dropped the spear and knelt next to the unconscious prince, gently tapping his friend's face in an effort to rouse him. Seeing no response he tapped hard, ending up nearly taking the elf's head off before he ended up waking. Bleary blue eyes appeared glazed and unfocused, finally resting on Aragorn before nearly sliding closed again. 

" Ohh no you don't, MOVE Legolas.. when I shift MOVE!!!" Aragorn called, as if in response the building shifted again, plunging the floor downwards onto an angle. It worked to his advantage as the ranger heaved once more, while Legolas twisted and wiggled his way from under the girder. The floor jerked and pitched downwards once more, causing Aragorn to loose his footing and the girder to roll off Elladan. The Heir to Rivendell made no move as the weight was released from his back and lay still as Aragorn crawled forward towards him, dragging the semi-conscious Legolas with him. 

The ranger roughly grabbed the dark elf and hauled him over his shoulder, unsteadily regaining his feet and dragging the lagging Mirkwood prince behind him. Together they staggered forward, ducking and weaving as burning objects fell across their path, the building in the final stages of collapsing. Aragorn could feel his flesh burning and melting off his body, he could smell the charring and boiling of his skin, but he could also hear to voices of the frantic elves outside, calling his name urging for him to emerge. 

He staggered onwards, one foot in front of the other and after what seemed like an age, they emerged from the building. Unable to continue further the ranger fell forward, pitching Elladan in front of him and allowing Legolas to finally fall as his injuries finally took their toll. The son of Arathorn lay still on the stone staircase, his breathing erratic and his melted flesh hanging from his body. Glorfindel scrambled to the fallen King of Gondor, turning him over in time to see his chest rise once more, then fall for the last time. Grey eyes open yet unseeing as his body relaxed in death, his spirit fleeing the tortured body to be with those of his forefathers. Glorfindel starred at the body of Aragorn, still gently holding it even as his mind finally comprehended that the human was dead. He glanced towards the other two downed elves and noticed both were unmoving. He passed the body of Aragorn to another elf and nodded towards another to aid him in bringing Elladan and Legolas away from the burning building. They scooped the fallen comrades into their arms and made their was quickly towards the bottom of the stairwell and the safety of the river, their boots only just touching the bloodied earth before the Last Homely House gave one final heave and finally collapsed in on itself entirely. Debris and hot ash was flung out in all directions, covering all in the valley in a grey dusting that would linger for many days. 

Reaching the river Glorfindel laid the still form of Elladan next to that of his father, quickly examining the twin for broken bones and internal injuries. A gasp of pain erupted when the blonde elf's skilled fingers reached Elladan's shattered ribcage, the grey eyes flying open as agony rudely brought his mind back from unconsciousness. Words failed the dark elf as he gasped for air, the pain of his smashed chest making it difficult to breathe. Instantly Glorfindel noticed this and shifted Elladan so he sat with his back support by a large tree. The elf's ragged breathing became slightly less laboured but his eyes remained clouded with pain, agony contorting his features as he lingered between wakefulness and unconsciousness. The Heir to Imladris was able to utter one word before the impending darkness reclaimed him with a vengeance.

" Elrohir?" 

To Be Continued.


	2. The Black Cloud of Grief

Title - Rivendell Burning - Chapter 2 - The Black Cloud of Grief

Author - Jules AKA Yunadax

Rating - PG 13 - 

Disclaimer - They Do.. I Don't

Authors Notes - Angst warning! I am NOT nice to characters in this fic.. it contains gore, serious angst, death and other not nice things. Also.. it makes sense to read chapter one first.

Dedication - To Minka (the holder of the Royal LEFT Boot of Muse Inspiration), Katie, Sonbon and the Pak.

The Black Cloud of Grief.

Glorfindel breathed a sigh of relief as the eldest son of Elrond passed quickly out of the world of the waking. The pain-filled eyes slid closed and his body slumped against the trunk of the large tree the blonde elf had rested him up again. Normally Glorfindel wouldn't wish unconsciousness on anyone, but he knew the treatment of Elladan's injuries would be excruciatingly painful. His crushed ribcage needed to be tightly bound, and his burns cleansed with cool water and wrapped in bandages to retain what moisture they could before the blisters burst. Glorfindel turned to gather some more rags and silently thanked the elf that was looking after Legolas, who also was bathing the Mirkwood Prince's burns with water while another elf wrapped his chest. They had still to find Elrohir, but there was little he could do for the missing elf-lord with the lives of so many already hanging under his banner of care. He buried his guilt deeper within his heart and tended once again to the fallen Elladan, gently bathing the horrible burns and cleansing the soot, ash and blood from the clammy skin. 

It was at that precise moment that the other heir to Imladris emerged from the now smoke-belching stables, a handful of terrified horses behind him. He was clad only in his breaches and boots, his shirt covering the eyes of one of the more frightened animals. Sweat and grime covered his torso as was his face, his bright eyes seemingly appearing out of a blackened face. Streaks lined the darkened skin, his eyes still rapidly tearing even though he had reached the relatively clear air of the outside. The horses once clear of the burning stable rushed forward, rapidly picking their way through the wounded and disappearing in their panic into the valley, their skittering hoofbeats echoing around the chasm's rock walls long after they had gone. Seeing that his charges were now taking care of themselves Elrohir quickly made his way over to where he could see Glorfindel working on an elf. As he neared he noted the fallen elf was his brother, and a surge of relief coursed through his veins, taking with it the rapid rush of adrenaline was still flooding through his system. He glanced around, spying also Legolas and his father among the wounded. But where was Estel? He touched the shoulder of his fathers' closest confidant, quietly alerting the other to his presence as he took in the battered form of his twin. Glorfindel left his ministrations to attend to Elrond, allowing the brothers a moment alone.

A gasp of disbelief escaped Elrohir's parched and bleeding lips as he saw the condition of his dear brother. He dropped to his knees and gingerly reached out to touch the face that mirrored his own. The skin that was not horribly blistered felt cold and clammy to his touch. He thanked the Valar that his twin was alive, and for the fact that he was unconscious for the time being, no being should ever have to endure the pain that Elladan would when he awoke. A low moan eased its way through the twins' lips, the blistered skin stretching painfully as wakefulness flirted with his mind. Elrohir held his breath as Elladan began to stir, wanting to aid him in any way he could once his brother awoke. A sharp call from Glorfindel interrupted them, tearing Elrohir's gaze away from his brother's agonized face.

" Elrohir, quickly!"

Elrohir's heart was nearly torn, to stay by the side of his twin, or to go to the side of the father. The distressed look on the blonde elf's features told him all he needed to know. Elrond was dying.

The dark lord hurried over to his father's side, trying to ignore the pleading faces of the wounded and the silent faces of the dead as he moved between the bodies separating him from his father. He fell again to his knees by the elf lord's side, grasping one limp cool hand between his own as his very eyes pleaded for Elrond to continue breathing. Words failed him as tears ran like rivers down his sooty face, carving pale streaks against a sea of black. Desperation gripped Elrohir as his father's chest weakly rose and fell, the wheeze in the elf lord's feeble breath telling the healer in his son what he didn't wish to know. 

As the Lord of Imladris weakly exhaled for the last time grief washed over Elrohir, blocking out everything else except the fact that he had just witnessed the passing of his own father. He dimly noted a hand on his shoulder, gently easing him backwards until he was forced to confront its owner. Glorfindel stood mutely, Erestor behind him, both with grief written plainly upon their features, yet both also knowing that they could not allow the Twin the comfort of grief while so many still lay injured. There would be a time for grief and mourning later. 

" Estel?" Elrohir asked, his voice catching as he fought to contain the one emotion surging through him. Glorfindel could not bring himself to add more grief to one already so burdened. Erestor shook his head slightly, and it was all Elrohir needed to know that Estel had perished in the blaze. His knees buckled beneath him, sending his body crashing to the soft earth as his mind refused to deal with the weight of so much grief. 

" Come Elrohir, you must see through your grief and aid us with the wounded. You are more skilled than us in the art of healing." Erestor pleaded, kneeling to see Elrohir eye to eye. Elrohir stared up at the other elf through glazed eyes, his mind refusing to process anything but his own grief. Erestor gently aided Elrond's now youngest son into standing and eased him away from the fallen Lord, guiding back to where Elladan was, hoping the need to care for his twin would even out the mind-numbing emotions Elrohir was feeling.

When next Elladan awoke his twin was by his side, carefully tending his wounds and feeling his forehead for signs of infection. The grey eyes flickered open and gazed into those of his brother, finding all he needed to know about what had transpired since he had been rescued. He knew without words that his father and foster brother were dead and a dark cloud descended upon his heart. But there was something else in his brother's eyes, something that he had not disclosed yet.

" What is it Elrohir? What else has happened?" Elladan asked, pain making his voice course and rough.

" I know the one who did this, I had him cornered in the stables. But he set the straw alight and I had to free the horses. I couldn't go back for him and I didn't see him behind me. He would have been killed when the stable collapsed. But I tell you this brother, and to you alone. He was from Denethor of Gondor, dressed in black wearing the mark of the Tree. They meant to kill Ada, just as they meant to kill Estel, and meant for us to die as well. What we will never know is why." He breathed a sigh of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted from his aching shoulders with the telling of the tale. 

To Be Continued.


	3. Help Arrives

Title - Rivendell Burning - Chapter 3 - Help Arrives

Author - Jules AKA YunaDax

Disclaimer - They Do.. I don't.

Rating - PG 13 for angst and unpleasant circumstances

Summery - Arson and murder befall the Last Homely House

Authors Note - This is part of a series.. its is recommended that you read the first two chapters to get any kind of sense out of this one :)

Dedication - To Sonbon, Minka, Katie and the Pakettes :)

Help Arrives

The next few weeks passed in a blur for Elrohir. The wounded were moved to one of the small servant huts that had remarkably escaped being burnt and were tended with whatever supplies came to hand; and those who were not adept at healing were sent on hunting parties to bring back whatever game and foodstuffs or medicinal herbs they could come across. The many dead were cremated with as much dignity as Elrohir could give them, which was nowhere near as much as he would have liked, considering the bearing that many of the dead held within the halls of Imladris. He watched solemnly as his foster brother and father were cremated beside each other, a fitting if not futile gesture in Elrohirs' mind, but alas there was so many dead, cremation seemed the only practical way.

Tears streamed down his face as the flames lipped their way up the pyre, hungrily devouring the kindling and growing hotter and fiercer with each passing moment. He had known since the first day Aragorn came into his life that he was human, and alas would come of old age or perish in battle. He had known that Aragorn would die one day, but he had never imaged having to deal with the death of his father. Elves were supposed to die in battle, or from grief, or to sail into the west to be with all the elves that had gone before them, but never to be murdered in their own home, to bleed to death in front of their only children. No, it shouldn't end like this. Elrohir pushed aside his grief as he had become so accustomed to doing in the short time since he had assumed the role of Lord of Imladris. Elladan and Legolas were still recovering from their burns, and although both were nearly fully recovered, the healers did not allow them on anything but short excursions from the impromptu infirmary until their waning strength returned, thus the people looked to the only available son of Elrond to lead them.

Elrohir forced his eyes away from the smoking pyre and surveyed what was left of the valley. 3 small dwellings had survived the arson attack intact, with several others damaged and many leveled to the ground. Elrohir had designated one hut as an infirmary, and the other two for sleeping, allowing the survivors a place to rest out of the elements and in the company of other beings. No-one was ready to spend a night alone this soon after the fire, their grief was all so close to the surface and none could withstand the call alone. They would have to make it through together. His musings were interrupted by a bandaged hand being laid on his shoulder from behind and he startled, whirling about to come nose to nose with a face identical to his own.

" I apologise brother, I meant not to startle you " Elladan said softly as his own grief caught in his words. His eyes remained fixed on the burning pyre in front of them, the smoky billowing towards the sky and raining fine ashes atop of everything. The twins stood together silently, contemplated their past as well as the future of the Valley. Could they ever rebuild The Last Homely House, knowing what had happened there? Would they leave with the other surviving elves to find another home, wandering the forests much akin to the journeys of their forefathers until finding a place suitable to start anew?

Their thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an elvish horn accompanied by the murmur of many soft footfalls. Elvish footfalls. Those who were able stopped whatever task they were doing and gathered in the small clearing, hope that help had finally arrived carelessly written across their faces as they awaited the bearer of the horns. Elladan and Elrohir made their way to the head of the congregation, their keen eyes surveying the path before them as it disappeared around a corner, eager to see who was coming towards them. Glorfindel made his way also to the front, grasping one of the few remaining bows in the valley, the quiver on his back a mishmash of any arrow he could find or make himself. He stopped slightly in front of the Twins, making it obvious to all and sundry he was reprising his role as the Royal Guard. An arrow was fitted to the string, the slight pop as the nock clicked onto the strong twine, and the string was pulled taunt, the arrow sighted on the bend in the path, ready in case the incoming help was not all it seemed to be. 

The footfalls came closer and closer, until small host of 2 dozen elves rounded the corner, their grey cloaks travel stained from long days of marching. A single blonde elf led the pack, his distinctive regal presence and armour marking him as Haldir of Lorien. 

Haldir signaled for his company to halt as took in the ragtag group of elves in front of them. The Last Homely House was nothing but a mass of molten metal and wood and there was only about half the elves in front of them than would normally inhabit the valley. His eyes came to rest on the blonde elf at the head of the raggedly bunch, his bowstring taunt and the arrow sighted on them. But it was not the weapon that worried Haldir, it was the haunted look in his old friends eyes.

" Peace! We bring aid from Lorien!" He called clearly, only proceeding when the weapon aimed at him was lowered. The Lorien elves continued until they stood directly in front of Glorfindel who in turn still stood slightly in front of the Twins. 

" My apologies Haldir, tensions have been running high here of late" Glorfindel said quietly as his regarded the other blonde elf. The twins allowed the two a moment before stepping up beside their former mentor.

" Haldir, your assistance is most timely. We are in great need of any aid you may be able to provide" Elrohir said softly as he clasped the strong forearms of the Lorien elf.

" We bring supplies and aid from Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. We have orders not to leave until you are able to manage on your own. " Haldir declared to the Twins, an uncanny matched look of relief washing over their taunt pain-filled faces as they realised they could now pass some of their burden onto another. 

" You have our undying gratitude Haldir" Elladan spoke quietly, leaning on Elrohir slightly for support as the pain of his injuries started to make themselves known again.

" Let us get started then " Haldir said with authority to both his soldiers as well as the citizens of Rivendell. The crowd slowly dispersed the wounded going back to the infirmary with the healers, those searching the debris for anything usable went back to trawling the ruins, and the hunters left for another few hours of gathering. Haldir organised his men, sending the bundles of medical supplies and the healers to the infirmary and settling guards to patrol the valley against intruders. Once his men were in motion the Lorien elf followed the Twins back to the infirmary, taking in the exhaustion that was evident in every step they took. Elladan stumbled and fell as they entered the small dwelling, clinging to Elrohir as his legs buckled beneath him and sending them both crashing to the ground. Haldir quickly stooped to aid the fallen Lords, noting how Elrohir's legs trembled as he slowly regained his feet, and how Elladan's bandages had torn on the edge of a bed, revealing slowly healing burns that would send any other elf to the Halls of Mandos with pain. 

" By the Valar, we had no idea it was this bad" The Lorien elf swore as he aided Elladan up to his bed, taking note that Legolas lay in the bed next to the Twins, his eyes closed in a drugged sleep as his body fought the nearly endless battle to heal itself. 

" It has been like this for 3 weeks my friend. " Elrohir admitted softly as he seated himself of Elladan's bed, gently touching his twin's face as a healer rebound the elf's tattered bandages. The elder twin finally succumbed to his exhaustion and slipped into a deep sleep, his eyes half lidded and glazed as the pain and strain finally caught up with him. 

" Fear not Elrohir, I will do all within my power to help you, you do not bear this burden alone anymore" Haldir said supportingly as he aided the weary twin towards the door, leaving the injured to heal and the able-bodied to slowly work towards getting the valley back in some form of order. The blonde elf noted the funeral pyres that lay blazing and paid his silent respects to the dead as he aided the increasingly fumble-footed Elrohir along towards the sleeping huts. 

They crossed the threshold of the darkened hut and he eased Elrohir onto the nearest bed, noting how the dark elf was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Haldir gently arranged the twin into a more comfortable position, removing his boots and drawing up the tattered blanket around the elf's neck.

" Rest easy Elrohir, I will watch over the valley tonight" He whispered, before turning and leaving the elf to his slumber. Yes, he would watch over the valley tonight, and every night until the Rivendell elves could manage on their own. They had seen far too much death and destruction to have to toil alone. They needed supposed desperately and he would provide it as long as his body still drew breath.

To be continued.


End file.
